


Confess

by ThatwasJustaDream



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Community: 1_million_words, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:35:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6018726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream/pseuds/ThatwasJustaDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when life feels like a nightmare, and then....</p><p>Written to the prompt 'Confess' on the 1_million_words comm on LJ. It went very angsty on me. Mature for violent references, acts, and Danny talking dirty at Steve for a sentence or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confess

“Say it!” Steve leaned in over the serial killer’s bowed head, the better to shout the words directly into his ear. “You know you want this out, want to shove it in my face, all of our faces. Confess!”

“Fuck. You.” He snarled it from the interrogation room’s metal chair, hands cuffed behind him, head staying down. He spat at the drain on the floor at his feet, and it came out pure red thanks to Steve’ s most recent punch to his jaw; a hit that had landed so hard it had made the perp’s head fly left, had made him half shout, half groan against his stubborn, evil will.

The blood found the drain, mostly, but a thin spray flew across the cement at Steve’s feet, adding to the crimson already there from the blows he’d thrown before it.

“Say it…” Steve stepped in and dug a hand into that hair, tugging his head, staring into blue eyes, one rimmed with purple. Eyes that would never look at him with feigned love and affection again, only with disdain and disgust at Steve being stupid enough to have believed in him. In them. “Say it, Danny… and it’s over. This has to be over, now.”

Had to be over, not because it was hard - but because it was so _easy_ to do this again and again; to kick him until the chair tipped, flinging him to the floor, to upright it and punch him in the gut, in the face. To see the blood flow from his nose, sweat all over Danny’s body from the physical stress of being pummeled for nearly an hour. To hear the bit-off moans of pain he was fighting to hide. 

The worst part? Danny deserved every bit of it.

Steve was sweating, too. Shaking from the exertion; from the anger and betrayal running through his own blood like electricity.

“Yeah…it’s over. For me,” Danny’s voice was even different: deeper, flatter. Emotionless. Partly from the pain and dehydration but also, Steve thought, maybe this was his ‘real’ voice. Even that had been an act, all these years- the lilt, the banter he’d thought they’d had. “But it’s just starting for you, isn’t it? You get to live with this the rest of your life; get to tear yourself apart wondering how you didn’t see it, why you trusted me….”

“It’s not about me, Danny. It’s about what you did. _Admit_ what you _did_.”

“You were so easy,” Danny said it in a leer that was a lure; a ‘c’mon, punch me again’ tease but Steve resisted it. He tugged Danny’s head back further and stared down at him, like ‘bait me some more, bitch.’ “You were so quick to buy the devoted dad and cop act. I knew before you took that oath that the governor offered you a gig. Word of that went around pretty damn fast, you know? I _got_ you to take it, _got_ you to hire me, made it feel like your own brilliant frigging idea….”

And then, he’d used it to kill, and to hide behind his good name. The teams’ good name. Five times in five years: Young women, mostly, but also two who were barely old enough to be called women. Just girls.

Steve let go of his hair, repulsed, now, at touching him. Felt his right hand curling into a fist again, at the thought of it. At how they’d missed it every time, chalked up Danny’s finding the bodies to his detective skills.

“Say it, Danny, or I swear I’ll lay you out so hard… there may not be a need for a trial.”

“I did it. There you go. I did it.” Danny maintained the eye-lock going on between them. “I killed them. Three more before them, too, while I was with HPD. And five others in Jersey, when Rachel and I lived there. Happy, now? ‘Cause you don’t look happy. You look like a fool.”

“Jesus, Danny…” Steve felt the anger draining, felt sorrow flowing in after it. 

So much worse than he’d thought. So …unreal, hearing these words out of Danny in the sick, grey-green light of this room where they’d questioned so many others.

“I knew my department back home would start to suspect me,” Danny said - apparently in for a full confession now that he’d started. “So I pushed her away until she found someone else and left me. Took her long enough. Handy that the ‘someone’ meant we moved far away from the scenes of the first crimes, though, so... that worked out well. Then… right about the time I figure HPD’s gonna start asking questions you appear, like my knight in idiotic, deeply dinged-up armor. You give me a new job…a more prestigious role. People looked at me not just as some cop, but as a known quantity: Trustworthy, a member of the 5-0. One of the good guys. It gave me room to enjoy my little hobby. And if I have to live on the memories in prison? The sweet recollection of them suffering… begging me to stop….dying in my arms? It’ll be enough. It’ll do. So….thank you. For all that.”

“Thank you for admitting it,” Steve wound up for one more punch “…you twisted freak.”

He felt it through his own body, when his fist landed: A jolt so bone-crunching that he…..sat up….

…shouting ….. in the dark….

In his bedroom.

The sweat and the adrenaline running through him; they were real. The rest?

The window was open, a fresh breeze pushing the thin, sheer curtain around, filling the air with sea scent. And …Danny….

“Zzshh _gsssmmmm_ mmmnnggggtt _hhhhhhzzz_ zzz….”

...was snoring; lying there, face-planted on the other pillow, mouth softly open, eyes dancing under his closed lids with a dream all his own.

“Oh…..shit,” Steve slid down slowly, hoping not to wake him. Hard not to, though, the way he was laughing, darkly and a little hysterically under his breath until his eyes were tearing-up. His body was rapidly chilling with the relief, which made him cold and made the shaking worse and….

“You okay?” Danny’s voice: Lower than normal. Flat and scratchy with sleep - not unlike nightmare-Danny’s voice. 

Steve shivered hard one more time and fought to get a grip.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Go to sleep, okay?”

“Nope,” Danny rolled over slowly, fumbling for the lamp next to him. He was shaky, too; still clumsy with the sleepies. “Tell me. What did you dream, that brought on actual night sweats? I can feel it on the sheets, Steven.”

Steve could hear the gentle order underneath the words, Danny’s voice more awake and softer, now.

Confess.

“We were at HQ, and I was… beating you half to death. Making you admit it, that you aren’t…who you are. That you’d killed a bunch of…people.” 

Steve had to keep it at that, couldn’t bear to be more descriptive. Except maybe Danny could take it, because he was lying there laughing, eyes crinkled, deeply amused. 

“You…complete goofball.”

“What? This isn’t funny, D, it was….horrible. It…God, it was …so real. It was awful.”

“It was not ‘real,’ Steve. You know what it was? It was three things: First, it was you asking me to move in last week - which, let’s be blunt, you are not ready for, but you’re not getting out of it. Second, it was us fighting over some stupid shit two days ago, and you not wanting to talk it through in your own, inimitable, closed-off way. And, last but oh…so certainly not least? It was Joe calling last night to tell you he might have a bead on your mom. Your mom, who is the one person who can make you feel like up is down and black is white and… like absolutely _no one_ is who you think they are. Yes?”

Steve lay there and let the words really land. He wanted to tell Danny he was nuts, that they needed to spend less time with the shrink ‘cause Danny sounded like her, but…

“You may be right,” he said, finally. “That might be it. I think… I’ll go for a swim.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You can swim later. We’re gonna go have breakfast and you’re telling me all about the dream in great detail. I’ll make fun of it until it’s lost all its power, okay? Then we’re coming back here and I’m blowing you ’till you kick the sheets half off the bed. After which, I’m fucking you into the mattress. Know why? ‘Cause my dream was _way_ sexier and… I’ve kind of got the feel and taste of you in my mouth lodged in my brain. What do you think?”

“I think….” Steve said. “We should skip breakfast.”

“Good luck with that,” Danny stood and reached a hand out for him. “I’m also starving. C’mon.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, halfway to the kitchen, their fingers still twined as they walked.

“For what?”

“For not leaving me, for being such a… freak, sometimes. You know?”

“You’re not a freak. You’re a self-unaware guy with deep, _deep_ trust and abandonment issues,” Danny said, hitting the kitchen light and heading for the coffee pot. “I’ll tell you one thing, though: If Doris does show up? I’m strapping _her_ into that interrogation chair, and I’m getting her to admit how much she screwed you up.”

“You can’t do that, Danny,” Steve opened the fridge and searched for the eggs, bacon, and twist-can of quick bake biscuits.

“Why not?”

“’Cause I wouldn’t let you.”

“Fine. Then she’s coming to therapy with us. Hell, we’ll bring Grace, too; who knows how much her mom and me maybe messed her up? We’ll get it all out at once, together.”

“That’s…a scary image,” Steve said, setting the breakfast stuff on the counter and getting arms around Danny, dropping his face down to smell his hair, to kiss his neck. “You know what I feel worst about?”

“What?”

“You might be the only person in my life who’s never lied to me.”

“And I won't,” Danny peeled open the plastic around the bacon and threw half of it in a pan, cranking the gas burner on. “Even when you hate what I say. Which, let’s face it, you still do on a daily basis.”

“We don’t have to talk it through,” Steve lifted his head long enough to say it. “The dream.”

“Yeah, we do. I’ll have you laughing about it. I promise."

“Not sure I can get there, but… I’ll try.”

“Yes, you will,” Danny said – giving a push with his hips as he got the bacon strips separated with a fork. “Or no blissful orgasm for you.”

“Okay. I’ll fake laugh, if I have to.”

“Fine. Get going. I’m cooking....so start talking, babe.”

~end~


End file.
